


She means everything to me

by mireia067



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: A little bit of angst, F/F, Songfic, but it ends hopeful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 05:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18190136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mireia067/pseuds/mireia067
Summary: Maria thinks about how much Carol meant and still means to herorI basically listened to She by dodie and realized how much it fits them





	She means everything to me

_Am I allowed to look at her like that?_  
_Could it be wrong_  
_When she's just so nice to look at?_

I know I shouldn’t. I know she doesn’t have the slightest clue of just how deep and meaningful our relationship truly was. But I simply can’t help it. She’s been gone for six years; six years and she still looks as beautiful as that day. That day she jumped on a plane ready to take on any challenge. That day she didn’t make it home, not until now.

I’m aware she sees me staring. But it’s not my fault, not really. I do hope, however, that she doesn’t spend too much time pondering whether my gaze stays on her for a little too long. Because it most certainly does, but it’s not the right moment. She can ask all she wants when she’s saved the world, if she comes back. No.  _When_ she comes back.

 

_And she smells like lemongrass and sleep_  
_She tastes like apple juice and peach_  
_Oh you would find her in a Polaroid picture_  
_And she me_ _ans everything to me_

I thought I had moved on just a little. Never enough to forget her, of course, but enough to not have these many tears welling up in my eyes every single time our eyes cross paths.  It’s proving to be particularly difficult for that not to happen, for all these memories just come flooding back time and time again. Good memories, the best memories; always the most painful, as you realize everything you had is gone.

Memories of her laying in bed, both of us tangled in each other’s arms. Of sloppy kisses and soft good mornings. Of taking the dozens of photographs I kept of her, not to let her go. Images of our only daughter being raised with so much care and affection. Though not only visual memories, the taste of her lips and the smell of her hair, so particular and soothing.

Yet I should have known that moving on from Carol Danvers is pretty much an impossible thing, a challenge you do not want to take up, mostly because you don’t want to win it. Simply due to everything that makes her who she is, every aspect that’s changed or that’s still there after so long, after so much waiting and so much struggling. Every single detail of her, of Carol or Vers or  _whatever_ , makes me see just how little my feelings have actually faded. And how much it hurts to still miss her when she’s right in front of me.

 

_Oh_  
_I'd never tell_  
_No, I'd never say a word_  
_And oh it aches_  
_But it feels oddly good to hurt_

I can’t believe how much time I’ve spent daydreaming about this exact situation. How many different ways I’ve imagined her coming back, perhaps with some scenarios a little too spicy to admit. Still, the one thing I never would have thought I’d have to do was repress those three words. Those three special words.

_I love you. I do, so much._

It’s almost agonizing to think about telling her but not being able to do so. I just know that if I do, she’ll figure it out in a matter of seconds. She’s smart like that. And something else too, the only thought gifting me the faintest trace of hope. Yes, her mind may not remember right this instant, yet deep down, I know her soul has not let her feelings burn away so easily. I know her body still craves our touch. Like two magnets pulling toward each other. Not the most advanced technology in the universe could erase that.

So, she’ll realize someday. You can’t keep something so strong hidden that long. But not now, she has too much going on, and she doesn’t need one more thing making her life crazy.

I’ve always been the one person allowed to see that behind that tough, nearly scary, facade, the one that keeps her protected. It now involves fire blasts and flying apparently. It does break my heart no longer being that somebody, yet a slight warmth crawls through my chest as I wonder when I’ll get to be, again. I don’t have to be though, to tell she’s still vulnerable Carol, sweet Carol, overwhelmed Carol,  _my_ Carol. And there are so many emotions her stubborn self won’t show, so I cannot and will not drag any more confusion into the whirlwind that is her present.

 

_And she smells like lemongrass and sleep_  
_She tastes like apple juice and peach_  
_Oh you would find her in a Polaroid picture_  
_And she means everything to me_

_Oh, oh_  
_Oh, oh_  
_And I'll be okay_  
_Admiring from afar_  
_'Cause even when she's next to me_  
_We could not be more far apart_  
_And she tastes like birthday_  
_Cake and story time and fall_  
_But to her_  
_I taste of nothing at all_

All I get to do now is watch, and smile fondly when she’s not looking. As well as fail miserably at suppressing a blush, here and there. Or a chuckle, when I see her spread out on the sofa, just like she used to, one leg on top of the other and arms wide like she owns the place. Or when she tries cooking again because “she’s not a guest and she can do things too” but is just as bad at it as she was when she left.

It’s hard when she acts a certain way, or repeats something she’s done before and you want to go “hey remember that time…”, and you’re instantly brought back to reality. And how she doesn’t, in fact, remember. She’s forgotten all your birthdays, your graduation, how you met, the day your daughter was born. She’s forgotten  _you_.

 

_And she smells like lemongrass and sleep_  
_She tastes like apple juice and peach_  
_Oh you would find her in a Polaroid picture_  
_And she means everything to me_  
_Yes, she means everything to me_  
_She means everything to me_

But she fights, relentlessly, to get her memories back. And when she does recall a little something, she keeps going. To catch the next one, and the next. It’s enticing to observe, fascinating even. I would spend day after day helping her regain her sense of self, helping her take back her strengths and her weaknesses. I would simply spend my whole life with her, and for her.

Nevertheless, I’ll take what I can get. She’s  _alive_ , although I never really doubted that. She’s  _here._ She’s  _okay._ So I’ll wait. I can settle with that, I’m practically used to it at this point. Plus waiting is not half as bad when there’s hope right there, waiting with you, assuring you one day she’ll just fly back to this exact porch and, instead of a hug, she’ll greet you with a passionate kiss. And that smug smirk she can never seem to take off.

 

And then I’ll just realize, once again, that  _she means everything to me_.

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is my second fic ever and my first fic in English so it won't be the best it could be, but I hope you all enjoyed it!


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